Too much or Not Enough
by angelwingprincess
Summary: A series of one-shots following Squall and Rinoa post game as they adjust to life after the events of the game. Will be updated continuously through August in honor of The Successor Challenge. Chapter length may vary
1. Bonded

This first one shot is fairly short, but I've loved it since it first burst from my head space. I originally wrote it as a small drabble on my Squall RP account on tumblr, which has been inactive for quite some time now. You can view the original entry and all its format on .com

I've fiddled with it a bit to fix some errors and make it fit here, but I thought it would be a good start point for the rest of my upcoming one-shots for The Successor Challenge. Kind of a teaser as to what I wish to look into, the not so happy moments but important parts of their story none-the-less.

* * *

 **Bonded**

Sweat drips from him. It is sweltering in this room, the tropical climate kept for the monsters that inhabit it. Ones like the particular monster he faces, a giant and dangerous breed; T-rexaur. His sweat is well justified as he clenches teeth tight and adjusts his grip on his gunblade. He is ignoring the drips coming off his nose, trailing between his eyes and lingering along his skin.

 **Drip**

 _ **Drip**_

 _Drip_

When the monster roars he can feel it in his bones and rushes forward, lunging under sharp teeth just in time. He slashes quickly at the beasts right leg, pulling the trigger just before he pulls away to cause more damage. Before it can retaliate he's already moving, running behind the beast and rolling to dodge a swing from it's massive tail.

 _{Shock,_

 _regret,_

 _swimming colors of blue and red;_

 _murmurs in the dark,_

 _a soft brush against his thoughts.}_

He blinks, rising as quickly as he can and breaths deeply. Focus is key. He is not a cadet and he knows that a mistake, even against a creature in the training center, could end in his death. He changes tactics and grips his blade in his right hand, freeing up his left as he rushes the beast once more.

This time, when the beast lashes out, it is with its tail. Squall uses his freed hand to leverage himself up and over the tail, twisting as he does so to dig blade into red, scaled flesh. It tears and leaves blood welling in its wake as he continues his path to slice once more at its legs, this time the left.

This time, rather than a quick slash, both hands grip the blade as he drags it behind him to dig into flesh while he takes several steps on and up the monsters leg, just before somersaulting back and landing in a roll to carry him away from the oncoming snout.

 _{Fear,_

 _anger;_

 _a sharp silver amongst swirling blues._

 _memories,_

 _fragile hopes,_

 _whispers of apology.}_

He's turning as he rises, blade there to block teeth that could tear him two. It is barely a save, too close for comfort and yet just what he needs. The pain brings him into focus, away from his thoughts and blocks them out. It's what he wanted and his adrenaline burns through his veins, demanding relief.

He will never admit to another soul. Never will anyone know how he craves the pain a battle brings; the sweet bliss of thoughtless action and reaction. His fears, his worries and all manners of mundane things are left behind, forgotten for a moment as survival becomes the only thing that matters.

Control. He gains it in battle where he has lost it in other ways. Even his mistakes are in his control; a lesson for a later battle, something to learn. Something has pushed him and he regrets what he feels, hates that loss of control this has brought and yet cannot deny a part of him wants to revel in it.

Because now someone can hear him.

 **Even when he doesn't want to be.**

 _{….I'm sorry.}_

 _Tears,_

 _water falling in stream,_

 _heart ache_

 _and chocolate brown eyes turned charcoal in despair._

 **She** is to blame.

But he cannot find it in him to despise _her_.

His footing slips as the thought slips through, the images distracting as the filter over his own thoughts. His heart clenches and his throat is tight with unsaid words. The monster does not care for his distraction and uses it wisely, his bloodied tail catching the SeeD across his middle and effectively throwing him a good dozen feet away.

When his body lands amongst some the brush in the center he lays there, eyes open and listening as the monster retreats, unwilling or too hurt already to pursue him further. His weapon is still in his grasp, more from training and instinct than anything. His breathing comes in gasps for a few moments before he pulls himself up and uses his own weapon as leverage to do so. He can already feel the blossoming bruises under his skin, knows that there are cuts and blood and wounds plenty but he pays them no mind as he makes his way to the exit.

When he finally reaches his dorm and finds her there, her dark hair spilled across the small bed and her form curled in on itself, he leans against the door to stare for a few moments. She amazes and frustrates him more than anyone he has ever known. This new development between them, this flow of thoughts and feelings, is just as foreign to her as it is to him.

He'll struggle to remember that as the days wear on until the undercurrent of it becomes familiar and he no longer sees it as an invasion.

He lowers himself to the floor at the bedside, weapon discarded at the door, and reaches for her hand. So small, yet even with his own gloved and his touch light, he can feel her warmth. His head rests on the bed as he clasps that one hand in his own, eyes closed and turbulent thoughts quieting for just a moment.

She says nothing, awake when he had first touched her hand. She watches him quietly and lets her free hand reach to run fingers lightly through his hair. No words are spoken but he voices his intentions in other ways; he has never been one for words anyway.

He knows that this is not her fault and wishes he could take back what has traveled through his mind; to retract the pain he has caused. One thought whispers freely along their line to reach to her. His first voluntary response since this issue began.

 _{….Don't go.}_

 _ I'm_ _sorry._

Because if she left, he would be lost.


	2. Silence

She's been more quiet than usual. At first he found himself glad at the peace it brought, hoping perhaps that she had learned how much he appreciated the quiet and was giving him his space. But when the conversations became shorter and her attention was clearly wandering far away from him he came to a sudden realization that would have left anyone in Garden stunned.

He had begun to hate the silence.

It even went so far that he would attempt conversation himself. He would make halfhearted comments on whatever was around, trying to draw her attention. He would point out things like Angelo hogging the bed or her hair being a mess. Point out that when she came to sleep in his room she always left clothes behind or try his hand at teasing her for her bed head.

Most of the time his attempts fell flat or would be greeted with half full smiles. Like a bright flame, her spark seemed to be slowly dimming, and he couldn't figure out how to bring it back to full strength. He found himself missing her constant chatter on everyday things, her spontaneously given opinions or just the sound of her voice in general.

It was as though she were there only partially, her mind elsewhere or deep inside herself.

The bond that they shared was still so new, he often tried to ignore it rather than listen to its whispers. It still unnerved him; made him feel vulnerable and unsure. So it was with great hesitation that he nudged across that line between them. Seated across from her in the library she looked up at him sharply, eyes wide with curiosity as her book met the table.

A deep breath in and he let her in, felt what she was feeling and shared his own with her. Immidiately, the answer became clear. He marveled that he hadn't figured it out beforehand.

"You should go."

She studied him, as if trying to make a decision based on his expression. He sighed and tried again.

"You haven't been back yet. You want to see how things are, see your friends."

"Everyone here are my friends too." She defends quickly. Though he can't decipher her emotions too easily yet, more often confused than able to follow their quick changing tides, he can guess she feels guilty about choosing one set of friends over the other.

"Of course."

He lets the words hang as he simply watches her. She bites her lip and glances at her book then back at him from under her lashes. She seems to give in with a huff of air, her chin coming to rest on the palm of her hand. It's on the tip of his tongue to remind her that she still technically has a contract with Garden for SeeD to assist her with Timber's liberation. He's not sure if they would let him go, but it would be possible for a few of their friends to join her. He doesn't mention it though, deciding at last second that she might take it the wrong way.

He doesn't want her to think anyone feels forced to help.

"Selphie is planning to fund a trip for Trabia's repairs soon, too. You could probably ask her to go with you." He mentions it casually, like they would be going for a shopping trip. Mildly, he simmers about how trapped he is within Garden walls still so soon after their final battle. Months have passed but still he is expected to play the role of Commander until the press chooses a new focus point. He's not sure he likes the thought of her being so far away.

"I might…" She gives him a small smile before moving her hand from under her chin to reach out and grasp his own gloved one. "Would _you_ be okay with me going?"

 _No_ He thinks _I'm not. But you need this._

She also needs away from the constant reminder of what she's become and the stares that he knows she tries to ignore in the halls. So he lifts her hand to his lips and gives her fingers a brief kiss, tugging back down on his mental walls to ensure she doesn't feel how worried he is, or how the thought of her leaving feels like a cactuar needle found its way into his chest.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Her face falls for a moment and he thinks he's said something wrong. His brows furrow before she mumbles under her breath. He barely catches it but gets the gist of it just the same.

"…Timber's not that far, Rin. It's only a couple hours by train."

"But it's still across an ocean! …. We wouldn't get to see each other as often and what if something happens or they send you off on another mission? It could be months before we see each other again!"

"It could be months before we see each other, even if you stayed here. We can call and do weekend trips. You should be able to live your life too, Rinoa. Edea even said you've shown great control in the past few sessions. I think you should give it a try, spend time with old friends and check on Timber. If you want to come back after a few days, that's fine. But you should still go and see how it makes you feel."

She scrunches up her face, small creases appearing on her nose and between her eyes in a childish look of disagreement. He can't help the twitch of a smirk at his lips from the sight, reminding him of the times she gave him that look over the course of their journey. Who would have thought he'd find it endearing now?

"Fiiiiiine." She huffs with a sigh, playfully smacking his wrist before drawing her hand back. "You're right. I'll go crazy if I just stay here and never find out. I just wish you could come with me."

 _Me too._ He shakes his head and crosses his arms, eyes focused on a section of the wall over her shoulder. "Maybe when things slow down I can."

She gives him a dubious look and rolls her eyes. " _If_ they slow down."

They've had this discussion before. She wishes he would just tell Cid and the Garden he wasn't going to keep being Commander, that he didn't want the job. He refuses, stating that someone has to do the job and he refuses to turn his back on responsibilities. He already slips away too often to cater to Rinoa, as Xu often chastises.

"I know, I know. I'm not going to jump on you about it right now. I just wish… well, you should get to live your own life too. You shouldn't have to keep putting Garden first."

She closes her book still sitting on the table and rises from her chair to walk over to his side of the table. She leans her hip on the edge and lets her fingers run through his hair. He doesn't even realize he's let his head lean into her attentions until she smiles and leans down to kiss his forehead.

He reaches for her at the last second and pulls her into his lap instead. A soft _oomf_ whooshes from her at the motion. He buries his nose into the hair at her neck before placing a soft kiss there. His lips are only a hairs breadth from her skin when he speaks, but he wants these words to be just for her.

"No matter where you are, Rinoa, you will always be first. Not Garden, or anyone else."

She says nothing, but pulls him closer to her by wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head atop his. In his mind, what he says is true. If it came down to a decision between them, he would leave Garden to burn.


	3. Distance

Author Note: I find myself slightly amused that I can do plotless things in a couple of hours or less regarding these two but my plot stories take me forever to get the words right. Ha. Well, enjoy.

 **Distance**

* * *

The lights flash through the windows in evenly timed intervals, stark against the darkened interior of the train car as it rolls along the tracks. He knows when they've finally made their descent into the underwater tunnel by the lack of those flashes. The only light now is the faint white of the floor lights and the panels on the wall leading to the SeeD room that comes standard for him anymore.

He knows he should rest, or maybe even try to work if he will not, but his eyes stay trained to the windows and their unchanging scenery. For once, his thoughts are quiet and his body is still. The further on its course the train travels the more he feels the tension leave his body. It's as though a weight is lifted from his chest and he is only just now finding his breath returning.

Months. It has been months. Phone calls cannot begin to breach the distance and, for one who has prided on his lack of human contact in the past, he is still coming to terms with this ache.

She had not come back, as he knew they had both expected. Not in a few days, not in a week, and when the weeks turned to months he had found himself with thoughts lost in old fears.

When her own calls tapered off from daily to weekly updates, he hadn't tried to pick up the slack himself. On occasions he knew he was the guilty party. Always working and leaving her to be the one to initiate contact, as always. It hadn't dawned on him to be the one to reach out first, not until Quistis had shown up at his office the prior morning.

"When did you last hear from Rinoa?"

He had been surprised at the sound of her voice and her level stare as she crossed the room to his desk was one he'd seen often when she'd been his own instructor.

"….I—" He caught himself frowning as he tried to think. He couldn't come up with an immediate answer and the thought…. Troubled him. "….two weeks ago."

Her eyes softened for a moment as she crossed her arms. He knew it wasn't the answer she had been hoping for. His own mind was trying to confirm what he'd voiced, to find a call he'd missed that would prove otherwise but he drew a blank.

"When was the last time you saw each other?"

He stands, unsure what she's getting at when she knows the answer.

"Three months ago." His tone is clipped and he can't be certain if it's his own frustration at the fact or irritation at a pointless question. { _Had it really been that long?_ }

She watches him as he grabs folders to store in the file cabinet to the left of his desk and she makes a statement that has him spinning to face her.

"Go see her."

A command, a request, a confirmation. He knows in that moment he has been forcing himself to think of anything else, to avoid thoughts of her at all while away until _her_ voice is on the line, in order to make the distance bearable and now she is giving him an out.

It's not the first time Quistis has given him that shove into action. It likely won't be the last. He watches her for a moment and her lips turn up in the smallest of smiles as he nods and gathers his coat and keys to move to the door. He knows he can count on her to handle his absence and maybe he should feel guilty for offering no argument but…. { _He will not risk losing her for pride._ }

He's leaning against the glass now, forehead touching the cool surface and eyes closed with his hands wrapped around the rails at the end of the window. He tries to reach across that fragile line, the one he's had such practice ignoring, and hopes she can feel him still. Without her immediately present he had found the bond easier to block, easier to let his walls stay up. Now he wishes he hadn't worked so hard to pretend it wasn't there, then maybe he could tell his imaginative hopes from reality.

{ _Lightest feathers, stifled gasps, warm glows and moonlight_ }

Something barely there but a brush against his senses all the same as the flash of lights returns on the winter, illuminating his face with each evenly spaced shine. He can't be sure if it's his memories or an actual feeling but he is there waiting at the door as the train slows and a chime signals his arrival.

The streets aren't as familiar as those of Balamb and it takes him over an hour to finally find the address she'd given when she had last lengthened her stay. It's quiet, the wind rustling the trees as he stands outside her door and realizes he should have called, should have gave some warning that he was coming.

His hand knocks once, twice and then silence again as his heart beats in his chest and he counts his breaths.

She opens the door, her hair sticking up in odd angles and her eyes tired as she finds him at her door. His guard is down so completely that he feels her surprise as her eyes widen and his own relief is pouring from him in droves. He doesn't move and for a moment it's as though time has stopped as he takes her in.

She's waiting for him to speak, he realizes, and his mouth forms the words before he can think them over, before he can shut that part of himself down that he has gotten so good at hiding.

"…You didn't call."

A statement, and one that made no real sense as a greeting but he knows she understands by the small smile she gives before she reaches for his hand. Her touch is like finding home and as soon as the door has closed behind him he pulls her closer, one hand in her hair as the other wraps about her waist. She sighs as her arms clutch at his jacket and he wonders why he ever thought he could handle her being gone when he wants nothing more than to never let her go.

His lips press lightly into her hair and she rubs her face against his chest before pulling back, a smile on her face before she reaches up to touch his cheek gently. He leans into her hand, savoring every touch that he's missed in her absence.

It's now that he decides he will stop hiding behind his wall and will accept that part of her that can so easily read him, and lets him do the same. He nudges across that line and whispers the one thing he has tried so hard to ignore for these past three months.

{ _I missed you.}_


End file.
